


To Resist

by SpaceCommunist



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/M, Novelization, heavy spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 01:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6218047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceCommunist/pseuds/SpaceCommunist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Backed into a corner, they could do nothing less but give the Freelancers everything they had. In the end, they feared it wouldn't be enough.</p><p>A novelization of the events of PF from the perspective of the so-called "Resistance". Contains heavy spoilers, so be warned!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Research Facility

**Author's Note:**

> Demoman finds him and his men in a bit of trouble with some unexpected company.

The night was cold - though of course, nothing less was to be expected from a facility practically a hop and a skip away from an ice sheet. It didn't help that, for Scully at least, he was stuck doing patrol for about the umpteenth time.

"Christ, is it cold or what?" he said, shivering in his boots as he and his assigned teammate walked along a narrow walkway.

"Uh-huh," Murphy grunted.

"I mean, how cold do you think it is? It has to be below freezing, right?" Scully went on, looking at the other trooper for some kind of affirmation.  
  
Murphy, in turn, looked at the edge of the walkway by Scully. "Well there's ice, so...yeah. Freezing."

Scully looked where Murphy was gazing at, and noted the fridged white lining of ice. He was right, after all; still, this did nothing to better his mood.

"Patrolling in the ice, give me a fuckin' break," he went on. "You know who  _doesn't_ have to patrol in the middle of the night, in the ice?"

"I'm sure you'll tell me."

"Jenkins!"

Something along the lines of an  _ah, geez_ seemingly came from Murphy's direction, but if it did Scully couldn't care less. After all, it'd be like Murphy to not give a damn - and even if he did, Scully was to hot-tempered at the moment to react to it.

"I bet Jenkins is sleeping right now, back in his rack, with his big fuckin' melon-head on a soft pillow!" Scully went on.

"Yep, that's Jenkins," Murphy nodded.

The two walked into one of the partially-exposed terminal rooms. This was their last round in this particular room, so it was Scully's duty to make sure the place got closed off for the night before they continued patrolling the walkway once again. Murphy, in the meantime, stopped outside the other door, gazing off into the distance.  
  
Ugh. Even the thought of closing off terminals was enough to set him off.

"Y'know I had terminal duty for 8 weeks straight, right?  _8 weeks_ , man! And then I make one fuckin' comment to Jenkins about the CO, and the next thing y'know, I'm out on patrol - Jenkins gets my terminal duty."

A few clicks, and the terminal was set to go. As he talked, Scully turned his head to Murphy.

"And now I get to freeze my ass off here with...." he said, but then stopped.

Murphy wasn't there.

"Murphy? C'mon Murphy, where are ya?" he asked, peeking outside the doorway. Scully scanned the walkways. No sign of any other soldier like himself anywhere.

What the hell was going on? It wasn't like Murphy to just up and disappear out of nowhere; usually he'd make some excuse to leave first. But to do something like that on patrol - that just wasn't like him at all.

"Murph...?" Scully repeated himself, a little more softly this time. He started to feel a twinge in his gut - something was wrong.

He whipped out his pistol from his side. "Murph - stop messin' around! Murph!" he called out, continuing to scan the area for any sign of...well,  _anything_. The silence, the sudden pause of the wind - none of it made him feel good.

Scully began to take a few hesitant steps forward. Should he call for backup from upstairs? Maybe it was just a bit early for that, maybe Murphy really had just wandered off, but...none of this settled well in his stomach.

"Murph!" he called out, one last time.

"Yeah, in here," came a voice from the end of the other room. It sounded like Murphy. "Thought I heard something."

Sighing with relief, Scully put his pistol back into its holster. "Oh yeah?" he asked, walking over to the next room. "What'd ya hear, a ghost?"

Stopping for a second, he looked around the room - but there wasn't anyone in there.

_Drop._

Something wet hit the top of Scully's helmet, making him pause. Another droplet fell in front of him. For fuck's sake, it was way too goddamn freezing for anything to be melting right now...except a quick glance down at the puddle of blood in front of him was enough to throw that theory out the window.

Confused, he looked up at the source of the drops - only to be met with the sight of Scully.

If he had been told a few minutes earlier that he could freeze up even more than he was already, Scully would've laughed it off. Unfortunately for him, the sight of a teammate's lifeless body hanging from the roof was enough to prove him wrong.

"Yeah, I guess you could say something like that."

The voice, now in front of Scully, caught him off guard. Instinctively, he reached for his pistol, but a quick flash of purple smacked his throat before he could do so.

"What the fu- _augh!_ " he choked, stumbling back in pain. He hadn't expect a blow right there, let alone one strong enough to make him choke on his own breath. Before he could react again, he felt the metal of his own pistol collide with his helmet, knocking him off the walkway down to the icy waters below.

 

* * *

 

 

It really was a cold night, wasn't it? A lot of the others had been complaining of the temperature, with this night being especially colder than normal. Some of the troops had even said that the lack of heat, even this far up north, was an omen of bad things to come.

But, to be quite frank, Demoman didn't give a shit. They were soldiers trained by the UNSC for god's sake! Any of those who couldn't grow accustomed to bad weather of all things quite honestly shouldn't have joined the marines in the first place, much less stayed after what had happened back at Eres XI.

Still, as he gazed out of the top of the central tower, he had to admit - he had no idea why the boss wanted him working a shift at some godforsaken oil rig in the middle of nowhere. He'd been told this was some kind of cryogenics facility; but then, there hadn't been any scientists on-site for quite some time. He'd even asked why, before he left; the boss, in turn, simply replied that their "benefactor" demanded it. They still owed him for his protection, true, but in all honesty nothing about the agreement between the boss and their supposed "benefactor" seemed right.

But that was a complaint he would have to make once his assignment at the research facility was done. He only had about a week of service left in this frozen hellhole before he had to head back to HQ, so maybe things wouldn't be so bad. He couldn't say the same for his underlings, but hey, that was their problem, wasn't it?

Demoman continued to look out the window. The scene before him had come to be rather dull, yes, but considering he didn't exactly have anything else to do except watch his troops patrol the walkways beneath him....

His thoughts wandered over to one of his troops, whom he had ordered to bring some coffee back up to him from below. The guy had asked if he could have some, too; though he wasn't sure if it was apathy or empathy, some feeling inside of him was enough to grant the soldier his wish. Odd, though - he should've been back by now. Hopefully, he hadn't just gone and hid somewhere, drinking all the coffee in the world - that would  _really_ piss him off right now, and honestly he didn't need to get any angrier than he normally was.

Continuing to look out the window, Demoman's gaze fell upon one of the exhaust stacks near the tower. There was something mesmerizing about seeing the smoke billow away in the cold air of midnight; at least, it was more mesmerizing than watching a bunch of armed grunts walk around all day and night. But this time, something else caught his eye - did he see, in between puffs of smoke, a brief glimpse of...purple...?

The sudden ringing of the alarm jolted him from his trance. He looked up at the speakers - they blared, unrelenting in their bellows.

"Oh, I swear to fucking god," he yelled to nobody in particular, "if one of those asshats pulled the alarm for no fucking reason-"

_Bang!_

The sound of gunfire came from below. The noise, like the alarm before it, jolted Demoman out of his focus, turning his attention to the window once more.

Two figures, clad in purple armour, were opening fire on his soldiers.

A moment passed where something akin to horror kept him frozen on the spot. They were under attack - they were  _really_ under attack, and by...well, whatever the hell  _these guys_ were.

He watched as more troops came pouring out of the doorways, and the two figures began to retreat back - only for them to pull off somersaults and flips, breaking his soldiers' bodies as if they were fragile toys in the hands of energetic children.

This was  _much_ worse than he had anticipated.

Once the current wave of soldiers had been taken care of, the two assailants began to flee to the western corridor - the one that led to the landing pads.

_They were going to try to escape._

He snapped back to reality, and smacked a button on the wall next to him. A speaker flipped out from one of the nearby terminals, and into it he spoke:

"All soldiers, listen up! Head to the upper walkways near Landing Pad C, I repeat, head to the upper walkways near Landing Pad C! If you are already on the lower balcony leading to the landing pad, hold your position until those fucktards get to you!"

Grabbing his shotgun from the wall behind him, he turned and jogged out of the room. Whomever these assholes were, they were gonna pay, and they were gonna pay  _now_.

As he headed out of the building, he saw a group of soldiers moving along towards Landing Pad C, as per his instruction.

"Hey! Over here, on me!" he called out, to which the troops came over to him. He smirked beneath his helmet.

"Don't think I'm letting you have fun without me, fellas," he added, and they continued on their way to the landing pad.

"Oh - sir! Sir!" one of the troops called from the back, trying desperately to make his way to the front, where Demoman led them forward. "The intruders - they broke into one of the terminal rooms, sir! I think they stole one of the data files we've got in storage!"

The trooper's words almost made Demoman stop in his tracks, and they probably would have if the urgency of the situation didn't demand that he keep moving on.

"What? Data file?" he said in confusion. The boss had never mentioned any 'data files' in his assignment briefing.

"Sorry sir, I don't think we told you - some of us found them before you got transfered here," another soldier added in.

"How much information is on one of those things?" he asked, but then he shook his head. "Nevermind - look, we're almost there, we'll take care of this once these dickheads are locked in the brig."

And sure enough, he and his soldiers began to fill up the higher walkways. Down below, he could see the two intruders tearing through his men like they were ragdolls.

 _Well,_ he thought, as he took position on a mounted chaingun,  _maybe these fuckheads need to find out what it's like to be torn to shreds._

A moment passed before the two below, now having taken out all the soldiers on the lower walkways, realized that they were surrounded. He could practically feel the realization beneath their helmets as the two got back to back.

It was quiet among the soldiers on the balcony - even Demoman didn't have anything to say, at least not now. The wind began to pick up, and with it, he could already tell what was on his soldiers' minds.

The bodies of their teammates, their buddies, even their rivals, lay sprawled out on the ground. It was a disgusting sight, but that didn't seem to faze the intruders below who had started bickering.

It sickened him. Despite his disdain for them at times, his soldiers were still just that - soldiers. To be mauled to death by two strangers like nothing...the thought both terrified and angered him. And that anger was all he needed to speak up.

"Attention assholes! Stand down, you're surrounded!" he bellowed, starting to see red. The soldiers beside him began to aim their weapons, as if his sudden outburst had made them angry, too.

"Give us the data file, now!" he went on, despite not being entirely sure what that was, or even if they had a so-called data file.

The two below didn't move - they only glanced up at him. Their faces were unreadable under their helmets, but he had a fleeting suspicion that they were either smirking, or frowning.

"You  _will_ be taken into custody!" he continued. He surprised himself; he was sticking to protocol instead of gunning them down here and now. "We can either do this the easy way, or the hard way! There is no escape, so just give us the damn data file-!"

All of a sudden, an outburst came from his left side. His focus, once again, was broken, and he turned to look at the cause of the disturbance - only to be met with the flying bodies of several soldiers.

Though many of the troops around him hadn't been trained to stand their ground in the face of flying objects, the same couldn't be said of Demoman himself, who managed to stay upright. Looking back at the same spot, however, he caught a quick glimpse of another figure, this one covered in a somewhat mist-like blackness - before he got a face-full of fist.

The punch threw him off balance, knocking him to the ground as other soldiers around him tried to get up. He clutched his helmet as if he was holding his head; the pain of this single blow was surprisingly too much for him to take at once. He'd been in plenty of scuffles, but he'd never been hit  _this_ hard before.

Looking back up, he saw the new intruder at the helm of his chaingun, firing away at the other balconies. They gave a quick glance around the balcony they stood on, and suddenly...they  _kicked the damn chaingun_. It spun wildly, spraying bullets everywhere as the figure themself leapt off to join the other two below. Instinctively, Demoman kept his own head down as the troops around him succumbed to the turret's firepower.

He had to admit - that was some remarkable creativity on the intruder's part. It still didn't keep him from being pissed off, however.

Once the turret came to a stop, he looked around - it had either killed or knocked out anyone standing on his balcony. The sound of gunfire below drew his attention once more, and, now getting onto his knees, he saw the scene unfolding below - the intruders were beating down the soldiers, all of whom had fallen onto the landing pad thanks to the chaingun's bullet spray.

For a moment, he was frozen in shock. These people weren't just evading attacks - they were  _massacring them_ , getting rid of his soldiers like they were nothing but pests.

If he hadn't been furious before, he certainly was now.

Looking up to the chaingun, he saw that it still had some ammunition left in it. He grabbed the side of it, stood back up, and aimed it straight at one of the intruders, shooting wildly at some of the few survivors left.

_They were going to pay._

The chaingun revved up, and then let loose a flurry of bullets. Before they could hit the intruder, however, one of the others leaped in the way and took the fire themself. It didn't matter to Demoman, really; all that he cared about was making sure that those bastards were gunned down like the monsters they were. The one he initially aimed at darted off to the left as the newcomer, now clad in blue, aimed on of their guns at him.

He smirked at this sight - he had plenty of cover behind the chaingun's plate shielding. He'd be surprised if -

_Clang!_

...well, it seemed surprises were abound this night, weren't they?

A fucking grapple hook. A fucking  _grapple hook_.

"What the...?" he blurted out, just downright confused at this point. His line of fire swayed - the sight of this hook was just too damn sudden for him to concentrate.

Suddenly, the intruder jerked back their gun - and with it, the chaingun flipped down, knocking Demoman backwards - just as the whole damn balcony collapsed from the force of the chaingun's spray.

He felt the force of gravity yank him down - but fortunately, he was close enough to the edge of the platform to fall onto a ledge jutting out from the landing pad. He grunted, and then pulled himself up, watching as the lifeless bodies of those around him fell down to an icy grave below. He looked over to the pad beside him - the figures were moving his way.

He was tempted to jump out and attack them with his own shotgun, or perhaps the kukri on his shoulder. They needed to pay - but then again, there was only one of him, and three of them. Instead, he once again resorted to protocol.

Tapping the side of his helmet, he sent out a message:

"Come in, Airbase 5! This is the CO of the Bjørndal Cryogenics Research Facility - we are under heavy fire from three unknown assailants! We need air support, and at least two Pelicans for extraction of any survivors! I repeat, we need-"

He was cut short by the sudden sight of the three figures, leaping off from the side of the landing pad.

"...I'm gonna have to call you back," he said, watching them land on, of all things, a fucking Pelican.

The vehicle rose up, the light from its nose waving across him, and the landing pad, as if assessing the damage the three intruders had done. And after a beat, the vehicle turned and flew off into the night.

Once again, the wind blew softly across the facility as Demoman watched the Pelican soar off. So much had just happened in so little time - he didn't even know what to think of it all anymore.

Fortunately, he didn't need to think about the situation for much longer, as a distant rumble turned into a violent explosion, sending the entire facility down into the ocean - and him with it.


	2. Assessing the Damage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To be added

To be added soon


End file.
